Odin watched Earth from his seat in Valhalla. The nine fallen suns were finally almost recovered, after millions of years in Avalon’s time. However, Avalon itself was not burned out of existence as he had expected; as the temperature and brightness of the suns had been recovered, they had already begun to transfer their energy back to the main body of Earth. Though there was no noticeable difference for Avalon, this did not go unnoticed by the mortals on earth, who referred to the increasing temperature as “global warming.”
Sighing, he completed his daily ritual of checking on Fenrir’s soul. Despite his best efforts and profound knowledge, he was unable to pinpoint its location - after all, that being’s very existence rejected the concepts of space and time. To be honest, even if all the gods had rallied against that wolf, they would have been annihilated. Luckily, they had been able to negotiate, and it had been surprisingly reasonable, even sealing itself with those fearsome chains. After that was done, Tyr had dared to taunt it, in his arrogance… and paid the price. The other gods did not hold the wisdom that he had traded his eye for, except for a select few; they had no clue about the origins of that wolf.
If they had, they wouldn’t have been able to do anything other than to cower in fear, let alone negotiate with such a being.
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After some consideration, Fenrir had decided to place Kijiro, Jon, and Tam in charge of his future information network. Kijiro’s talent for stealth gave her great potential as a spy, Jon had a talent for business, and Tam had a good sense for decision making. However, none of them were suitable for the darker side needed to reinforce their positions, so Fenrir made it very clear to the former guilds that they were under his protection, and began tutoring the three in the subjects needed for each respective role.
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With that dealt with, the sun was beginning to rise, so Fenrir tore open a space gate back to the female dormitories. The Academy treated its students well, and so there was no need to share accommodations.
Fenrir had decided to avoid sleeping after it lead to the embarrassing situation with Yerin. Although it seemed to have strengthened their friendship, he felt rather uncomfortable with what had happened. He had tried to evaluate why this was so, but could not seem to identify any logical reason. Perhaps he was uncomfortable about Yerin knowing of his vulnerability, but he somehow felt that that wasn’t the problem.
In the end, he had thought back to his mother’s advice from when he was a child: “Just do whatever feels fun, and avoid anything that makes you uncomfortable. Of course, you could destroy it too, if avoiding is troublesome.”
How long had it been since then? He didn’t remember. He remembered his age at Helrend, but after that… How long had he spent with Sera? Months? Years? Decades? Probably not centuries...
He was slightly confused whenever he thought back to this point. Somehow, it felt right that he had lost track of time, even though he knew it should be strange...
When he was asked his age at the Academy’s registration, he had simply responded with Yerin’s age: fifteen. He had always had trouble differentiating ages of other races; to him, Yerin’s father looked at least a few hundred years old, but apparently not. As such, he used Yerin’s appearance as a template; they both seemed about the same age, so he assumed that he looked fifteen.
Well, thought Fenrir, At least I’m not lying. Technically. I might actually be fifteen...